I sit on a barrel at the Solitude Docks, in a shadowy alcove. I idly fondle a sleek dagger between my scaly Argonian fingers. I see you walking past, and I glare at you. My reptilian pupils constrict into slits. My eyes narrow and my grip shifts to my dagger. I cross one scaly leg over the other. I give you a look that says: "Keep walking, asshole," I scowl at you, narrowing my eyes. "What're you looking at, shithead? Keep fucking walking, or else Deeja's blades find a new home in your belly."